


Creating Our Own Quilt, One Panel At a Time

by augopher



Series: The Things We Make, We Make With Love [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Apologies, Art therapist Stiles, Babysitting, Body Paint, Disabled Character, Established Relationship, F/M, Gym, M/M, Married Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski, Married Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura, New Baby, Photographer Kira, Stiles sews, bank employee derek, gender variant character, stiles paints, zookeeper Scott McCall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 10:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3525425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/augopher/pseuds/augopher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the birth of Kira and Scott's baby quickly approaching, gifts are made, Stephen goes to camp, and oh yeah...Derek finds out one of Stiles' hidden talents is quite the turn on. </p><p>The arrival of the little bundle of joy, makes both Derek and Stiles aware of one thing: Certain relationship timelines may need to be adjusted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drink Up Me Hearties, and I'll Paint You a Landscape

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't post my work Goodreads

Derek yanked a stubborn dandelion out of the ground, looking up when he heard Stephen squeal with glee from next door. The low chain-link fence separating the two yards, offered little in the way of privacy, not that he ever needed it, and in times like this, it was nice. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched his son swing on the tire hanging from the sturdy branch below his tree house.

“Take that, and that, and that you evil sea monster!” Stephen, impractically dressed for battle in a blue tutu skirt and tank top, adjusted his eye patch and swung at an imaginary monster with his foam pirate sword. “Cap’n Amy, the Sea Dragon is just too big! We need more pirates!”

Amy looked out the treehouse window with a paper-towel tube spyglass. “Y’arr! That’ll do Mr. Bones! Get back to the Manta Ray, and don’t let ye’ be eaten!”

Derek chuckled while he watched his son hop from cushion to cushion. Stephen and Amy had pulled all of them from the patio furniture, which now sat bare.

“Cap’n, how will we escape?” Stephen asked, scurrying up the cargo net ladder.

“Arg, we be using magic. Pirates! To y’ar battlestations!” She positioned their dolls at the windows.

When the two of them started throwing various plush toys out of the treehouse, Derek's chuckle turned to full laughter.

“Little Stevie has quite the imagination.” His neighbor, Mrs. Walters said, adjusting the brim of her sun hat to better shield her face.

“Pirates are his new thing. Last month it was dinosaurs again. He and Amy had to save the Lego kingdom from the deadly T-Rex. Honestly, it’s pretty funny to watch. I think one of them must have looked up pirate language, because I don’t remember teaching him.” He tossed another weed into his bucket and wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand.

“It’s cute. Well, I don’t know about you, but I need a break. Would you like some iced tea?”

“That would be wonderful.” He stood and offered a hand down to help pull her up.

“Such a dear.” She patted his cheek. “I’m going to give you a great piece of advice. Don’t get arthritis. It’s no walk in the park, let me tell you.”

“I’ll try to remember that, Shirley.” He shed his gloves, setting them on the table before he sat down in a lawn chair. The day was pretty hot, and he shucked his t-shirt, settling for just his a-shirt while he continued to watch the scene unfolding in his yard.

On the patio, thankfully shielded by the lattice of the pergola, Stiles perched on his stool, hard at work. His easel sat in front of him, holding a large canvas. He replenished the paint on his palette and continued working.

What used to be a blank canvas three feet high, four feet wide was now filled with the inner structure of a large tree. The backdrop held a lovely blue sky, dotted here and there with a cloud. Rolling hills gave the painting depth, each grassy knoll holding the skeletons of a few trees; the foliage would come later. As he painted a line of burnt umber on the edge of the trunk, marking the last bit of shading, he set down his palette, and began to clean his brush.

From the table next to him, he picked up a folded piece of newspaper and blotted off his brush. Once most of the paint had been taken off the bristles, he grabbed his rag and repeated the process trying to remove as much of the remaining paint as possible before cleaning. A jar of oil sat on the table, and he swirled the brush in it a few times. Another treatment with the rag, and the brush was ready for soap. The small glass dish (Well, it used to be an ashtray, one he’d picked up from Goodwill) next to the jar held dish soap, and he coated the brush’s bristles. As a last step, he swished the bristles in a jar of soapy water to remove the last bits of pigment. He’d rinse all brushes inside before he put them away for the night. He set the bristle filbert into his brush organizer to dry and picked up a tube of paint and a palette knife, setting to work mixing the perfect shades of pinks.

Slowly, those empty branches began to fill with delicate cherry blossoms, and soon, the canvas was alive with beautiful flowers. While Stephen played and Derek helped do yard work next door, he diligently continued to work. He wanted to make sure that the painting had plenty of time to dry before Scott and Kira’s baby arrived. Though he preferred oil paint to acrylic, he did not like it’s dry time. Even a month’s time wouldn’t be quite enough time, but it would be dry enough to hang in her room.

He was going to offer to make something for the wee one anyway, but when Kira came to him with her idea for the nursery and asked if he’d be interested in creating an original art with a cherry blossom theme, of course he said yes. Actually, he jumped on the chance, especially given that it would be a landscape. He liked painting those best, to be honest. The world was such a beautiful place; it was a neverending source of inspiration. Abstract had never been his thing. Animals and scenery held most of his interest.

He’d just started to put the finishing touches on the painting when he heard Stephen whine, and soon the boy came limping over with tears in his eyes. “What’s the matter?”

“I fell and scraped my knee. It’s bleeding, Tatuś. You gotta make it better.”

Stiles gave him a soft smile. Hearing Stephen call him that still made his heart flutter. “Hey Amy, could you bring one of the chair cushions over here, please?” Once the chair had been repadded, he helped Stephen sit down. “Wait here, and I will go get stuff to take care of your knee.”

Stephen wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Okay.”

Stiles ventured inside and returned a short while later with a bottle of Bactine and a large bandage.

“Can I have a Hello Kitty Band-Aid?” Stephen sniffled.

“Buddy, I’d love to give you a Hello Kitty Band-Aid, but they’re too small. You don’t want germs to get in do you? Your knee will get infected.”

“No. I guess you’re right. The brown one is fine.”

Stiles poured some antiseptic onto a cotton pad and applied it to Stephen’s knee.

“Ouchie! You gotta blow on it.”

Stiles fought not to roll his eyes. The reason he’d grabbed the Bactine instead of the peroxide was because it didn’t sting. Still, he obliged him anyway. Once the wound was sufficiently tended to and covered with a bandage, he sent Stephen on his way. “There you are sailor. You are fit for duty.”

“Aye-aye, Doc.” Amy saluted him, and they continued to play.

Stiles shook his head while he finished up the flower he’d been working on. After he’d signed his name, he began the clean-up. Derek didn’t look close to finishing next door, and would most likely want a shower when he did. So, Stiles gathered his supplies and took them inside, saving his canvas for last, while he tried to figure out what in the hell to make for dinner.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

“What about this one?” Derek asked, holding up a purple and white striped sundress.

Stephen considered it for a minute. “No, it’s not stretchy enough.”

“Why does it need to be stretchy?” He rubbed his forehead. They’d been packing for summer camp for over two hours now. He had no idea Stephen could be this picky.

“Well, if I’m playing baseball, I can’t move my arms enough in that one. I need stretchy clothes I can play in.”

Derek conceded that his son had a valid point. “How about we pack some of your stretchy ruffle skirts and favorite shirts instead? That way you can pick which one works best.”

“And shorts. Don’t forget shorts. This year, I’m big enough to go for those long walks in the woods, you know, the kind that grown-ups do, but bring those really, really big backpacks, the huge ones that take up their whole backs. Those kinds of walks. Not the kind we take around the neighborhood after dinner. I mean the really long ones, and you get to use a stick when you walk. I don’t know why you need a stick to walk, though.”

Derek chuckled silently. Stiles was definitely rubbing off on Stephen. That was an almost perfect imitation of one of Stiles’ rambling explanations. “You get to go hiking this year?”

“Yes! That’s it. I get to go hiking, but I can’t wear a skirt or a dress, and I will need my gym shoes.”

Derek pulled two pairs of denim capris from the dresser and placed them in the suitcase along with said sneakers. Just for good measure, even though he’d already packed plenty of each, he added an extra pair of underwear and socks.

Stiles pulled a light blue jersey sundress from the closet. “Is this stretchy enough?”

Stephen’s eyes lit up. “Yes. See, Daddy, this is the kind of stuff I need.” He folded up the dress, well, balled it up was a more accurate description of Stephen’s folding method.

Stiles handed Derek Stephen’s swimsuit. This year’s choice was a pink polka-dotted rash guard and light blue board shorts. “Don’t want to forget that.” He left the room.

“Daddy, what are you and Tatuś gonna do when I’m away at camp? Being a grown-up is boring. I don’t want you to have nothing to do.”

Derek smirked. He could think of a few things they’d do. Have sex without worrying about waking up Stephen for one. “Well, we’ll go on a lot of dates. Kiss all the time.”

Stephen rolled over on his bed and let his head hang over the edge, gagged and then played dead.

“Hey now.” Stiles said, reentering the room carrying a bag of travel toiletries. “I picked up all these at Target just for you. I guess you’ll just have to stink up the camp with that little boy smell.”

“Very funny, Tatuś.”

Stiles tossed the pouch into the suitcase. “Well, I mean if you’ve choked to death over there because of kissing...I guess we’ll just have to take back this present Daddy and I got you.”

At the mention of the word ‘present,’ Stephen rolled back over onto his stomach and propped his head up on his hands, his legs bent at the knee behind him. “Present?”

“Oh yeah. We bought this really nice dress for you to wear at the fashion show, but I guess, since you’ve d-”

“No, no, no, I’m all better. Show me, show me, show me.”

Both Stiles and Derek quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Please, show me.”

Stiles pulled a dress with a white lacy top and ruffled hot pink skirt from the bag, and Stephen squealed. He was off the bed in no time to take the dress from from Stiles’ hand. “I love it! It’s so pretty!”

Derek smiled. “Check in the bag. There’s more.”

“No way!” He plopped down on the ground and emptied out the bag. “The purse looks just like a mermaid purse!”

Item by item, he carefully packed them into his suitcase, making sure to comment about each thing. Derek stood, wrapped an arm around Stiles’ waist, and kissed his temple. All of the sudden, Stephen crushed them both in a hug. Since when had Stephen’s head been sternum high? _Must have hit another growth spurt._

“Thank you Daddy and Tatuś, thank you, thank you! I love my present!”

“You’re welcome, Buddy.”

They finished helping him pack, making sure to double check the list three times to ensure he didn’t forget anything. Despite everyone heading to bed early (They had an early start in order to drive to Napa the following morning), Derek was pretty sure Stephen didn’t sleep a wink.

 

 


	2. Two Weeks to Ourselves. However Will We Cope?

Derek’s fingers clicked away at the keys as he typed up his minutes from the meeting he’d had that morning so he could distribute them to his team. He was positive the fact the PR department was moving up two floors and to the other side of the building would earn more than a few groans. Hell, he’d groaned when it had been announced in the meeting. Since he’d started working here when he moved back to Beacon Hills with Stephen, Derek had moved desks...well actually, he’d lost count three years ago. However, he’d had this office for almost two years now. It suited him.

Still, he couldn’t complain because at least in their new location, all the project managers got to keep their offices. So he didn’t have to share one again, or get moved to a cubicle. Ugh, he did not miss those days at all.

Someone knocked on his closed office door. “Yeah?”

Isaac popped his head into the open doorway. “Deaton is buying everyone ice cream. What do you want from DQ?”

Though the guy was vague as fuck sometimes, he really did like his boss. “Medium banana malt please, have them hold the cherry.”

Isaac wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, I hate maraschino cherries too. Nasty. Hey, Ben is bored. Apparently, his department site redesign took a lot less time than he expected. He wants to know if you need help with the presentation slides for Tuesday since you're out of office the next two days.”

“That would be awesome.” As Isaac left his office, he leaned back in his chair and called out, “Thanks, Ben. You’re a lifesaver.” He still had five pages of notes to type up, which would take no time at all if he were making just a list for his personal use. Fancy layouts were not required for him when it came to notes. However, some of his team benefited from a more graphic outline to notes. It made him chuckle, because Stiles was the same way, saying something once about how the visuals drew in his eye and made it less likely that he would get distracted while reading.

Twenty minutes later, frozen drink in hand, he was finally onto the last page of notes. About. Damn. Time. Beside his monitor, music played softly through his IPad speakers, and he hummed along. A few minutes later, the Skype alert chimed. Without looking, he reached over and hit accept.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Kochanie.”

Derek looked over and grinned around the straw in his mouth. “Hey, Babe,” he said, hollowing his cheeks as he slurped up his malt.

Stiles made a choked noised on the screen. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

“What is?” Derek looked at his drink. “Oh, sorry for the distraction.” He set his shake back on the desk. “What’s up?” He studied the screen. “You have paint on your face.”

“Ugh, I know. My last patient...he’s a challenge. Parents are going through a nasty divorce, and the kid is already oppositional/defiant. He might have thrown a paint brush at me.”

Derek furrowed his brows at him. “I don’t need to be worried about you do I?”

Stiles laughed. “No, the kid is six. I am sure he poses no bodily harm risk to me. I found an activity that I think will work for him. He likes to make collages. So we started a feelings notebook with pictures he cut out from magazines. He calmed down after that.” He smiled. “How’s your day going?”

“Not bad. Long meeting this morning. They’re moving my department upstairs, but other than that, not exciting.”

Stiles nodded. “Got a lot left to do?”

Derek took another drink. “No. I think I might be able to cut out at one, actually. One of the guys on my team volunteered to finish the presentation slides since I’m off until Monday. Why?”

“Wanna come to my PT appointment with me? I seem to do better when you’re there. It’s like extra motivation.”

“If I’m able to leave at one, sure.”

“Don’t rush yourself though. I mean it’s okay if you can’t.”

“I’ll do what I can. I gotta get back to work though.” He looked up to see Stiles kiss his screen. “You dork.”

“But you love me.”

“Indeed I do. See you in a couple hours then.” Derek ended the call and buckled down to finish his tasks so that he could go to Stiles’ appointment. He’d made some progress since his dad and Melissa’s wedding, though his gait was still unsteady, and his leg still caused him problems, namely the pain.

As the smaller nerves surrounding Stiles’ peroneal nerve had started repairing themselves, the numbness in his foot was not as strong. However, the pain which had been intermittent before, was now more frequent and stronger. In addition, the biggest hindrance to his recovery, was the fact that his tibial nerve, the main one in the back of his leg, had been damaged more than his doctors initially thought.

Muscle spasms in his calf plagued him daily, and for whatever reason the nerve misfired the information to his foot, which led to stumbling, a lot of it. To help with the tightness in his calf, Stiles’ therapist had prescribed a muscle relaxer for at night in the hopes that maybe the nerve was just pinched.

If Stiles did better with Derek at his appointments, then Derek wanted to be able to go to as many of them as possible.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Derek held the door open for Stiles so the he could walk through with ease. Knowing Stiles pushed himself hard at therapy, he was suffering for it now, even though he tried to hide it. “How about you sit down, and I’ll make dinner.”

Stiles leaned into the kiss Derek placed on his temple and limped into the playroom to pull out his sewing cart and project. He made a trip to Second Skin with Stephen the week before he left for camp and picked out many articles of baby clothing that were a little too worn to be suitable for wear. Then, they’d worked together to cut out square panels from each garment in order for Stiles to sew them together later. As he arranged the squares on the dining room table, trying to decide how best he liked the pattern, he caught sight of Derek out of the corner of his eye.

The way the man knew his way around the kitchen was, frankly, hot as hell. It wasn’t as though Stiles couldn’t cook. He did alright, but he stuck to the basics like spaghetti, salads, and easy oven dishes (Baked chicken with some kind of sauce from a bottle was his go-to). Still, it was nothing compared to Derek.  Stiles figured he’d taught himself how when Stephen was born, not looking to be one of those dads who made everything from a box. Stiles stared, transfixed as Derek made precise cuts to a veritable vegetable motley. “What are we having?”

Derek shrugged. “I was thinking a stir-fry. We have some teriyaki sauce, and there’s chicken thawed.”

“Sounds good. Do you want help?”

He shook his head. “I know your leg hurts. So just sit and relax. I got this, but thanks for the offer.”

Stiles smiled. Finally, he managed a configuration of panels that appealed to his aesthetic and began to pin them to one another. He’d managed to get about half of them sewn together before dinner was ready.

"That looks really good so far. They're going to love it," Derek said, glancing over as he dished up two plates of food. "What do you want to drink?"

Stiles stretched out his stiff arms and back. "Iced tea sounds great." Diligently, he packed away his project and supplies, before Derek joined him at the table.

"So, I was thinking," he reached over and grabbed Stiles' hand, "that tomorrow we head downtown and check out that art fair the University is sponsoring."

"Mhm. That sounds like an excellent idea." He wiped his mouth. "Did you know, I actually had an exhibit at that fair the summer after I graduated undergrad?"

"No."

"Oh yeah. I mostly sold small paintings and art prints, did some face painting. Made about two grand, which may not sound like much, but to me it was a big deal. I mean, I may be an art therapist, and that's been what I've wanted to be since high school, but there will always be a small part of me that will dream about being a professional and successful artist."

"What's stopping you from trying?"

"Aside from the fear of failure? Practicality.”

Derek swallowed a bite of his dinner. “Well, I mean you could paint more as a hobby and sell it if you wanted.”

Stiles smiled. “I’m glad you believe in my skill level.”

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Stiles tugged Derek towards a booth. “Look at it! It’s a bird made out of garden tools. This is the exact thing our back yard is missing!” He pointed at the red and black bird with glee. Its body had been fashioned from the the head of a shovel and a piece of sheet metal, the head and beak out of an axe head. Pieces of rebar had been bent into shape for its legs, and teeth of a leaf rake served as plumage atop the bird’s head. “It’s perfect!” He checked the price tag. Eighty, he could swing that. Supporting small businesses had always been important to him, and what was an artist if not a small business of one?

Derek grimaced when his boyfriend checked the price on the thing. “I know you like it, but um...I think it’s creepy.”

“Oh come on! It’s awesome. What was the point of coming down here if you didn’t want to get anything?” He pouted.

Derek rubbed Stiles’ shoulders. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to get anything. I just don’t want...that.” He walked around the booth, his eyes settling on another sculpture. “I happened to really like this one.”

Stiles gave the metal piece a thorough inspection. Unlike the bird, this piece, a wolf in a playful pose, was not fashioned from garden tools but what looked like motorcycle and auto parts. “This thing is huge, D. You planning on carrying it around the rest of the day?”

“No, silly,” he pointed to several tags on items around the tent, “you pay for it, and it gets a sold sticker. I can load it into the car when we leave.”

Stiles took in the price tag. “Uh huh...and you’re totally okay with the price?” He looked up to see Derek talking to the artist.

“Can these be displayed outdoors?”

“Absolutely. All the pieces have been lacquered to prevent rust. Are you interested in one in particular?”

“Yeah. We’ll take the wolf.” He pulled out his wallet and handed his credit card to the man.

Stiles shook his head and chuckled. Derek could be quite the impulse shopper when he wanted to be, and in a few moments, they were on to scout out the rest of the fair.

“Do you want some?” Derek pointed to a food vendor. “Those cinnamon almonds smell delicious.”

Before he could respond Derek had already purchased a cone of the candied nuts. “You are like a little kid right now. You know that?” He kissed his cheek.

“Am I?” Derek asked despite a mouthful.

“It’s cute.”

“Well,” he said, swinging their arms between them, “I’m having a really good time. It’s not often we get to spend a whole day together alone, and don’t get me wrong, Babe,” he pulled Stiles into a hug, “I love being a dad, but sometimes it’s nice to not have to worry about it and just act young again.” He kissed Stiles’ nose.

“I know, and it’s a gorgeous day.”

“See what happens when you remember sunscreen?”

Stiles rolled his eyes at him. “Very funny. We need to slow down though, maybe sit down for a bit. My leg is really starting to bother me.”

“Sure.” Derek squeezed his hand.

Out of the corner of his eye, another booth, one piece in particular caught Stiles’ attention. He would not let Derek dissuade him on this one and pulled his hand towards the canopy. The stained glass panel was more beautiful up close. “Wow. This is gorgeous.” His words were barely more than a whisper. Several ocean waves rolled into a beach, each one crafted with an insane amount of detail. Intricate arrangements of tiny pieces of glass in varying shades of blue, some green here and there, topped off with white foam caught the sun, diffusing the rays like diamonds. It almost looked like a photograph; there was that much detail in it.

Doing the math in his head, the dimensions of the piece meant it would fit nicely on the sliding glass door to the balcony. He could picture the way the morning sun would filter in through it. Yep, this belonged in their house. He didn’t even wait for Derek’s opinion before lifting it from its hook and carrying it to the register.

“You are way too pleased with yourself.” Derek laughed.

“Yes, I am. Wasn’t going to let you talk me out of this one.”

“Hadn’t planned on it. It’s lovely.” They walked past an activity booth. “Hey, we should get our faces painted.”

Stiles cackled. “No, that’s quite okay.”

“Don’t be a Negative Nate. It will be fun.”

He glanced at the paint being used. “I think it sounds like a breakout waiting to happen.” When Derek tried the puppy eyes on him, Stiles smirked and leaned in close to his ear. “I’d rather just paint you myself, and I promise you a far more enjoyable experience.” He stepped back to see Derek looking like his brain had short circuited. “Did I break your brain there, Kochanie?”

Mouth agape, Derek nodded. After about a minute of silence, he finally regained control of his brain again. “That,” his voice cracked, “sounds like...you can do that?”

“Oh yeah. Have quite a bit of body paint. Helped out on the university’s production of CATS right before we met.”

Derek nodded. “That sounds good. Let’s do that.”

Stiles patted his cheek. “Lunch first. I’m starving, and I need to sit down.”

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Stiles threw down an old blanket down over their bed and set up his paints. He was, by no means, a professional at body painting and had only volunteered to help with the show because he’d done the face painting at at least eight years’ worth of Police and Fire community picnics. So, he worked with brushes instead of an airbrush, which to be frank was how he liked it. The feel of a brush in his hand was like second nature to him.

“So… what are you painting? Like do you need me naked?” Derek blushed.

“Aww. That’s so cute, but no I don’t need you naked, not that I’d object in any way. I’m just gonna paint your back.” He opened the sliding glass door so the warm breeze outside could fill the room.

Derek switched out his jeans for a pair of gym shorts. “But then I can’t watch you paint. Why can’t you paint the front?”

“Two words, D: Chest hair.”

“Right.” He lay down on his stomach and waited for Stiles to join him on the bed. When Stiles pulled the first brush stroke down his skin, he squirmed. “Sorry. It tickles.”

Stiles leaned forward and kissed the back of his neck. “If you move too much, it will look like garbage.”

“So, you’re saying I should be a good boy and hold still?” Derek mumbled into his forearm.

“That is exactly what I’m saying.” Stiles went to work making methodical strokes of his brush.

Derek, who fully expected the “session” to put him to sleep the way a massage always did, found the exact opposite to be true. Never, in a million years did he think he’d be turned on in having his back used for a canvas, but there he was, uncomfortably hard and under request to hold still lest he damage the “artwork,” which for all he knew was just a series of words and stick figures. If he could just get some frict- He felt the bed dip down on the other side of him and turned his head where he came face to face with Stiles.

“I’m finished.” He walked his fingers along Derek’s shoulder. “Do you want to see? If you go out on the balcony, I can take a picture of it.”

“I’d love to, but um… so...can this be a thing you do again?” Derek smirked.

“Liked that did you? Well glad to know that although I am not the hottest man in the world, my talents sure are.”

Derek kissed his forehead. “Don’t sell yourself short, Babe. I think you’re gorgeous.” He pushed himself onto his knees and crawled off the bed, breathing a sigh of relief as he was finally able to adjust himself in his shorts.

Stiles maneuvered him on the balcony in order to find the best lighting. “There we go.” He snapped a picture and looked at how his work photographed. “Too bad we only have this point and shoot. It really doesn’t do it justice.”

Derek turned around and took the camera from him. “Wow. That’s beautiful.” He took in the blacks, purples, blues and some white which made up the galaxy on his back. Stiles even managed to disguise his tattoo in the black. “You definitely need to do this again, but have Kira photograph it. You could make a whole piece out of it.”

“Oh stop. You just want to show off that gorgeous back of yours.”

“I’m serious. I think it would look amazing. The fact it’s my back has nothing to do with it.” He pulled Stiles in close, wrapping his arms around his waist. “So, how sturdy is this paint?”

"Quite.”

“Excellent,” Derek mumbled into the skin of Stiles’ neck, as he backed him into their bedroom and towards the bed. “Because that was sexy as hell. Good thing you didn’t paint my chest where I could watch you. Otherwise, I might have ruined the canvas.”

“I don’t know if ruined is the word I would use,” Stiles said as Derek tugged his shirt over his head. When Derek took his earlobe between his teeth, Stiles’ knees almost buckled. “Fuck,” he hissed.

“Getting there.”

Stiles pushed his boyfriend’s shorts and underwear to the floor. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Later, after the paint (Which definitely did not survive their afternoon tryst) had been washed off and they’d eaten dinner, Derek and Stiles retreated upstairs and out on their balcony to enjoy the beautiful night. Stiles lit the few Citronella candles they had scattered about the railing while Derek popped the caps off two bottles of beer. It had been a fantastic day, relaxing out here was the perfect way to end it. However, he’d noticed that as the afternoon turned into evening, turned into night, Stiles seemed to be favoring his right leg a lot.

Derek patted the cushion beside him. “Come sit down.” When Stiles tried to sit next to him, he gestured to the other side of the patio couch.

Stiles, though confused, complied, but when Derek picked up his leg, he got the hint. As much as the brace helped him walk, it was still a relief to have the thing off, which seemed to be a rarer and rarer feat now that he’d been given one for sleeping and a special one to wear when he swam. Stiles hissed when Derek cupped his heel and pulled his toes towards him before flexing back towards his calf. A useful stretch, it sometimes caused the calf muscle to cramp up. “Ow, ow, ow.”

“Cramp?”

Stiles nodded.

“I’m sorry, Babe.” He abandoned stretching Stiles’ calf and ankles, instead focusing on massaging the muscle. Within a few minutes, he felt his boyfriend relax the tension in his leg.

Stiles took a drink of his beer. “I think I overdid it today. Too much walking.” Yawning, he leaned his head against the back of the couch.

“You know, you can tap out, right? If whatever we’re doing becomes too much activity, you can tell me you need to stop.”

“I know. It’s just, I’ve made improvements, but I feel like I’m plateauing on regaining full mobility. If I don’t push myself, how will I know?” Derek’s fingers hit a particularly painful area, and he waved him off. “I don’t think that’s going to work tonight. Be right back.” When he tried to stand, Derek stopped him. Stiles rolled his eyes at him. “I _can_ get it, you know.”

He sighed. “Stop doing that, acting like I treat you like you can’t. Please?” He kissed Stiles’ forehead. “I just don’t like seeing you in pain.” He retreated inside, leaving Stiles sitting outside.

After a few minutes, Stiles began to think he’d annoyed him, and Derek had no plans of coming back out. His minor concern was quashed when Derek returned carrying Stiles’ TENS unit and a new pack of electrodes. Quickly, he grovelled. “I’m sorry. I’m just stubborn and independent.” He squeezed Derek’s hand. “Thank you.”

Derek gave him a little nod. “We’re a partnership, you and me. We take care of Stevie; we take care of each other. That’s all I’m trying to do, make you feel better.” He opened an alcohol swab. “Where do you need these?” When Stiles pointed to each of the four locations, Derek cleaned his leg of any oil and applied an electrode.

“I can’t wait until I don’t need this thing, and I’m still hoping I won’t need it forever. ‘Cause I gotta tell you, I don’t like shaving my lower leg. Well, legs, gotta match right?”

Derek plugged the lead wires into the electrodes. “I mean you could just let the electrodes rip out your leg hair. Barring that option, buy some Nair.”

Stiles laughed and took the unit from him, turning around on the couch so he could nestle in between Derek’s legs and up against his chest. “Tempting.” He flinched when he accidentally turned one of the leads up too high and his leg spasmed. “Whoops.” Once he had each channel going at the right intensity, he relaxed, finally. “Today was nice.”

“Yeah, it was,” Derek said, draping his arms over Stiles’ shoulders and letting his hands rest over his boyfriend’s heart.

Without intending to, they both eventually dozed off to sleep outside, waking sometime in the middle of the night, each with aching limbs from the less than ideal sleeping position.

 

 


	3. New Skills and a New Arrival

“Am I doing this right, Tatuś?” Stephen asked, holding the green piece of plastic flat against the fabric. He was nervous to start using the machine, even with the guide Stiles made him.

Stiles leaned over and adjusted the rectangle so that the two inch strip he’d cut out of the center lay straight. “There we go. Remember, keep your fingers away from this strip and on the marks I made. If you put firm pressure on the guide, the fabric will feed into the needle fine. I tried it out first. When your fabric gets close to the needle, right here on the yellow line, you can slow down and let go of the pedal on red.” He was proud of the thing.  The machine manufacturer was back ordered on needle guards and as it stood, he’d been waiting for over three months for one. Knowing that, he needed to improvise.

Stephen made sure his fingers stayed inside the painted outlines of hands and began to stitch. After the first inch or so, he actually giggled. “I’m doing it it, Tatuś!” He kept going until he’d sewn all the way down one side, securing the pink satin binding to the rough edge. He released the petal, and Stiles helped him turn the corner cleanly. “Hey, Daddy! Come look at what I did!”

By the time Derek made it downstairs, Stephen had already sewn another two edges. Derek stood off to the side so that his son could concentrate. In no time, he’d finished, and in his enthusiasm to show off his work, he pulled it out of the machine, neglecting to snip the threads. “Whoa there! Aren’t you forgetting something?” He pointed to the mess of pink string.

“Oh yeah.” Stephen giggled as he cut the thread and balled up the mess he’d made of the extra string, depositing it into the trash. “Look what we made.” He bounced on the balls of his feet, thrilled to show of the nearly complete quilt. “Isn’t it pretty? Baby Scott will love it.”

After giving his nod of approval on the mostly straight stitches (He used mostly straight quite liberally. Whatever. It didn’t matter so long as the binding was attached to the blanket, which it was), Derek raised an eyebrow at him. “Baby Scott? You know it’s a girl right?”

“Duh, Daddy. But I don’t know her name.”

“No one does, Buddy.”

“Nuh uh. That’s not true, Tatuś knows!”

“Really, you do?” Derek looked up to see Stiles smirk.

“Best friend privileges.” He beckoned Stephen over and handed him a marker. “Okay, you get to sign your name.”

“Where?”

Stiles flipped over the quilt to show him the tag he’d sewn on containing the words ‘Made with love by,” and a blank space for a name. “Go ahead.”

Stephen made each letter of his name with precision and care. “There we go. When is the baby going to get here?”

Derek helped Stiles clean up the scraps of fabric and supplies so they could get ready to leave. “Should be any day now. Now how about you go get ready.” As Stephen scampered up the stairs, Derek turned to Stiles. “You’re not going to tell me what name they picked out, are you?” Stiles mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key. “I see how it is.” He kissed his cheek. “Your bag ready?”

Stiles looked around at the rest of the mess the quilt assembly had left. “No, actually, and I really don’t want to leave this all-”

“It’s fine. I can go pack it for you.”

“Thanks. Um, my trunks are hanging up on the laundry rack. My brace should be there too. I think everything else is in the bag in the bathroom.”

Soon, everyone was packed and off to the gym.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

The water was a few degrees warmer than usual, just the way Stiles liked it. He’d never been into swimming when he was younger. He was decent, sure, but he did not belong on a swim team by any means. However, after his leg eliminated his go-to form of exercise, he needed an alternative.

So, the three of them sought out a new gym, one that catered more towards families. The one they found, though over in Chico, had a special kid’s gym, which was more like a glorified playground, and the nice thing about it was that it was supervised by certified youth instructors. That meant, Stiles and Derek could go work out while Stephen had a blast.

Two weeks of adaptive swimming instruction went a long way in helping Stiles become more proficient in his strokes given the limited use of his left leg, which boiled down to only being able to kick with one leg with any consistency. The left would cooperate maybe once or twice a lap. Now, he considered himself a pro (Well, certainly much better than before), and honestly, his shoulders and upper body had never looked so good. Hell, he even had defined abs. Why hadn’t he considered swimming before?

It had been slow going at first, but after being in the pool four to five times a week, he had now settled on a two mile distance, or roughly sixty-five laps. He’d tried to make it to seventy laps last week, but his shoulders burned, and he paid for it the next day.

His arms sliced through the water in a smooth, methodical fashion. Left, right, left, right, left, breathe. Repeat. At the wall, he did the transition flip the way he’d been taught, turning in the water so that as he broke the surface, he was on his back. This was trickier, because even though a thick black line ran the width of the pool on the ceiling above him, maintaining a straight line with only the line as reference still tripped--hah tripped--him up.

Fifty-five down. Ten to go.

However, at sixty, he felt wiped, and decided to call it a day and spend a little time in the hot tub. Goggles atop his head, he hoisted himself out of the pool and sat on the ledge to catch his breath. When he checked the clock, he found, he’d been swimming much harder than usual. He beat his previous best by a minute. _Nice. You are a beast, Stiles. Keep up the good work._

He grabbed his towel and slipped on his pool shoes. The trip over to the jacuzzi was slow; he realized he’d exercised too hard. Damn. He just needed to get into the water before his leg cramped up on him and he fell down.

 

*   *   *   *   *

  
  


“Ready for a couple laps, Buddy?” Derek asked as he signed Stephen out of Kid’s Gym. Finishing his workout running two laps with Stephen was part of the routine, and to be honest, his favorite part.

“You see that rock wall, Daddy?”

Derek looked in the direction of Stephen’s pointing finger. “That one in the back?”

“Yeah. Well, I climbed halfway to the top this time, but my fingers slipped. Last time I only got to where the blue things end.” He pointed to the lowest section of hand holds.

Derek held out his hand. “Good job. High five.” They waited for a gap in the runners and took their place on the track.

“Daddy, why don’t we ever wait for Tatuś to get finished before we go running?”

“Well, you know how his leg hurts a lot, and sometimes doesn’t work very well?”

“Of course I know that. I mean we could walk with him instead of run.”

Derek rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess we could do that, but we’d have to go slowly.”

“Is Tatuś’ leg ever going to get better?”

Derek shrugged. “I don’t know, Stevie. We hope so.”

“Yeah, I bet he misses running a lot.”

“He does.” Derek felt his phone buzz in his armband. “Hold up a second.” He ushered Stephen to the middle and out of the path of traffic to check his message. “We need to go get showered and changed.”

“But we’re not done yet,” he whined. When Derek showed him the phone screen, his eyes almost bugged out of his head. “The baby is here!”

That did the trick, and Stephen tugged on his arm so hard he almost pulled Derek over.

“Come on, Daddy. We need to hurry. I have to give the blanket to her.”

Derek held the door to the locker room open for him. “Well we need to stop by their house first and drop off the painting Tatuś made.” He dialed in the combination to their locker and noticed Stiles, shower supplies had been taken out. “Come on, Tatuś is in here somewhere.”

Derek found two empty stalls adjacent to each other. “In you go. Here’s your shampoo. Wait for me to finish before you get out, or you hear Tatuś. Okay?” He secured the door for his son.

“Okay, Daddy.”

Derek took one of the quickest showers in his life and was almost finished when Stiles knocked on the opaque glass door.

“You almost done, D?”

“Yeah. Couple minutes.”

“That’s fine. I have Stevie with me.”

Maybe Derek was being paranoid about making sure Stephen stayed with one of them at all times in the locker room. But...well you just never know.

By the time he made it back to their stuff, Stephen practically mauled him “Come on, Daddy. We gotta go. Come on, come on! Let’s go.”

Yeah, Stephen was pretty excited.

 

 


	4. Future Queen of the Universe

“Knock, knock.” Stiles announced, opening the door to Kira’s hospital room slightly.

“Dude, you can come in.” Scott said.

When they entered the room, he couldn’t help but smile at the joy on his step-brother’s face. Plus he looked high, really high. “Congrats, you two. Kira, you look way too good for someone who just had a baby.”

She chuckled. “Trust me. I look better than I feel. Labor moved too quickly for the good drugs. I was at home; everything was fine one minute. Then tada. Here we are. Guess she really wanted to get here.”

Scott stood up, little pink bundle in his arms. “You know you want to hold her. I can see it in your face.”

“Well, yeah I do, but first.” He pulled Scott into a hug, careful to avoid the sleeping newborn. For good measure, he made sure to mess up Scott’s hair as he released him. “You’re a daddy, Scott.”

Scott flashed him a full dimpled smile. “Yeah I know. I can’t really believe it yet, either.” He placed the baby in Stiles’ arms, and Derek snapped a quick picture of the look on Stiles’ face.

“Hi there, Akiko. I’m your Uncle Stiles. No matter what your dad tells you, I’m awesome. Really. Don’t believe the nonsense he feeds you.” Stiles smiled at her. “She’s just adorable. She looks like Kira but with your skin tone. Future queen of the universe here, let me tell you.”

Derek had stood quietly by observing the exchange between Scott and Stiles. Still, Derek could honestly say that if he had ovaries, they’d have burst at watching Stiles’ face light up when he spoke to the newborn. _Why couldn’t I have met you when Stephen was a baby?_ He tamped down that line of thinking quickly. When Stephen was an infant, Stiles was barely an adult. They wouldn’t have worked out had they met then.

“Can Stevie hold her if he sits down?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. Use some of the hand sanitizer just like I did and join me on the couch.”

Kira finally noticed Derek in the room. “Why so quiet?”

_Lie. Lie. Don’t tell them you were imagining Stiles holding your baby._ “Just a trip down memory lane for a minute there. I can’t believe how fast he’s grown. It’s crazy. So Akiko? That’s pretty.”

“It was my grandmother’s name. We can call her Kiki for short.”

“Middle name?”

Scott grinned. “Made my mom’s day.”

“You went with Melissa?”

He smirked. “She cried.”

The door opened again. “Hey, Dad, Melissa.”

“Look, I get to hold the baby.” Stephen beamed, and Melissa looked like she would start crying again.

“Derek, go join them on the couch.” She had her camera out and waited for them to get settled before snapping at least a dozen pictures. Then she swapped Scott in for Stephen and Derek, and so on.

John clapped him on the back. “I think she’s taken at least two hundred photos already.”

“Pretty excited?”

“Yeah.”

“And you?”

He nodded. “Guess so. It’s...tricky I guess. I love Scott as if he were my own, and yeah I see Akiko as my granddaughter, but Scott, I think he’s really missing his dad today. Hell, I don’t even know if the man knew Kira was pregnant.”

“I can imagine how he feels. When Stevie was born, I’d have given anything to have any of my family left to celebrate with me.”

Stiles walked over. “I’m starving. Gonna duck down to the cafeteria. Anyone want anything? Kira, you doing okay?”

Before long Stiles had a list of things to for everyone and sought out sustenance.

 

*   *   *   *   *

Stiles had left work early so he could stop by the hospital on the way home. He had no sooner stepped off the elevator when he ran into Scott’s cousin Damien, whom he had miraculously avoided seeing at his dad and Melissa’s wedding. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if the guy attended. _Maybe I can leave before he sees- Too late._

“Hey, Stiles. How are you?”

Taken aback, Stiles stared at him a long while, brows furrowed, as he tried to suss out the man’s angle. “What? No, rude comments?”

Damien held up his hands in surrender. “I make no excuses for my prior shitty behavior.” He gestured to the empty waiting room.

Still wary, Stiles reluctantly joined him.

“How’s your leg? I heard about what happened-”

“The real story or the one Kyle and Keith made up?”

“I assume it’s the real story. Heard it from Aunt Melissa. That’s a rough break. Does it… does it hurt a lot?”

Stiles chewed lightly on his tongue the way he always did when he felt anxious and upset. “Yeah, I mean it hurts often, but not always a lot of pain.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

Okay, this nice guy thing had to be an act. “No offense, but what are you doing?”

“Talking to you.”

“I see that. Why? You’ve never said anything nice to me before.”

Damien rubbed his palms on his jeans. “I was...a real jerk when I was younger. I fully admit that. You haven’t seen me in what, two years? I grew up, realized what I thought was funny back then… wasn’t. I’m an adult now, twenty-four, so I figure I should own up to my mistakes. I’m just, I’m trying to get to know you, and fix or make up for before.”

“You know it will take more than just talking to me once, right?”

He nodded. “Fully aware of that. Scott told me you got your Master’s in December. That’s awesome.”

“Thanks. I like my job.” This whole situation was just too weird, but hey, if the guy wanted to atone, he’d let him try.

“That’s in art therapy right?” He looked over to see Stiles nod. “Cool. I’m still doing the retail management thing. I don’t really like it, but it’s a job. My mom says I am never going to figure out what to do with my life.”

Stiles chuckled a little at that.

“But, I mean, I’ve been with my girlfriend now for over a year. So I say that’s a big step towards deciding what to do with my life. And you? Scott mentioned someone named Derek, but didn’t give specifics.”

Stiles smiled. He could talk about his family all day. “Yeah, I moved in with him and his seven-year old son over Christmas. We’re going on two years together now.” Wow, would it really be two years in December? Where had the time gone?

“He’s got a kid? So you’re like Stepparent in training? Practicing for the real thing?” Damien winced. “That came out all wrong. Just ignore everything I just said.”

“Well I mean, Stevie doesn’t think of me as only a stepparent. So…”

Damien’s face was bright red. “I am so sorry. This is so embarrassing. I meant that to sound so much better than it did. Yeah, I’m just gonna go so you can go in and see the baby. It was nice talking to you, Stiles. I am really sorry for being an asshole to you. Probably see you at Christmas.”

Stiles shook his head, unable to really wrap his head around the conversation he’d just had. One of Scott’s cousins being nice to him, was just not something he’d ever thought would happen, and now that it had, he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it.

 

 


	5. Grocery Shopping Leads to Important Questions

“What’s next on the list, Stevie?” Derek asked, placing two giant boxes of Frosted Flakes into the cart.

“Mrs. Walters wants Special K with the chocolate pieces.” He walked down the aisle trying to find the box, unsuccessfully. “I can’t find it, Daddy.”

Derek spotted the box on the top shelf and handed it to his son, who placed the box into one of the children's shopping carts the grocery store had. He looked back at the shopping list on his phone. “We’re on to the cold food now. How bout you?”

Stephen looked down his paper list. “Big skim milk, butter, and eggs.”

“All right then, let’s go.” Together, they wheeled their carts to the dairy section. Once there, he handed a gallon of milk to Stephen. “You got it?”

“Yeah. I’m pretty strong.” He set it down in the cart a little harder than necessary.

Derek grabbed a twin pack of 1% from the rack before inspecting two dozen eggs. One for them and one for their neighbor. “I’ll keep the eggs over here. Okay?”

Stephen nodded, and they continued about their errand. “Hey, Daddy?”

“Yeah, Buddy.”

“Why don’t I have a little brother or sister?”

Derek flushed. Well, it could be worse. He could have asked something embarrassing. “Well, after your mom left, it was just the two of us, and I never thought about it. I didn’t have a special someone besides you. You were so important and deserved all my time. It just...didn’t happen.”

Stephen seemed pleased with the answer and helped himself to strawberry Go-gurt, tossing it into the big cart without asking. “But yeah, now theres Tatuś. So why don’t I have one, now?”

Derek scratched his eyebrow. “It’s not that easy, Buddy. We’re not married.”

Stephen crossed his arms, clearly having none of his father’s evasive answers. “Yeah, but you don’t have to be married to have babies. You and mommy weren’t.”

The kid had a point. Still, Derek knelt down so he could look his son in the eye. “Stevie, that’s different. Remember when you asked where babies come from, and then how do two boys if they can’t make a baby, how do they get one?”

"Yeah. Babciu Aggie said they adopt them or do something sciency.”

Derek nodded. “Well, when two people want to adopt a baby, it’s not like going to the store and buying milk, Stevie. Someone has to look at the couple and decide to give them a baby. The odds are better for them if they’re married.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you understand?”

“Okay, well you and Tatuś should get married so I can have a baby sister.” Stephen nonchalantly threw a pound of butter into his cart and walked off.

  
*   *   *   *   *

  
  


When Derek and Stephen walked into the house, their arms loaded up with groceries, Derek walked into the living room, where he found Stiles sitting on the floor with two month old Akiko. He shook a rattle above her face.

“Who’s a pretty baby? Who’s a pretty baby?” She gurgled at him. “Yes, you are. The prettiest baby in the world.” He looked up to see Derek watching him with a smile. “Hey, Kochanie. Kira had an engagement session to shoot, and Scott got called in to work. Apparently, there was a medical emergency with one of the bears. Said something about… you know, I don’t actually remember what he said. So, surprise! We’re babysitting tonight until I think eight or so.” In a well practiced but still awkward move, Stiles managed to stand. Then, crouching carefully, he scooped her up in his arms. “But, I do have dinner cooking. Hawaiian style chicken with rice. Should be ready in like twenty.” He kissed Derek on the cheek, and waited for Stephen to say something about it. Though, he had quit making the gagging noise any time they kissed, he occasionally made a comment.

“Sounds delicious. You want me to hold her so you can finish with dinner? Or I can finish if you want.”

“I’m good to cook. I’ve been sitting a while. Should be fine, but she is due for dinner. If you take one of the bags of milk and drop it in hot water, Kira said it should be warm enough for Kiki’s liking in about three minutes.” He handed off the baby to Derek, and checked the rice before starting the prep work for the salad.

As he worked, he tried not to pay attention to just how attractive he found Derek when he held Akiko. By try, he meant that he totally failed. Derek with babies...damn.

_ Pay attention to what you’re doing before you chop off a finger. _

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

While Derek finished up straightening the downstairs to his liking, the way he did every just about night (Seriously, the man cleaned up after Stiles already picked things up), Stiles had read Stephen his story. Actually, now that he was in second grade--”I’m practically a grown up, now. Duh-- Stephen read the story to him.

When he heard Derek switch on the vacuum, Stiles gave up waiting for Derek to join him for a  shower, and took his. _That’s it I am buying the man a Roomba. Hell, I’ll buy him two of them._ He tugged on a pair of pajama shorts and grabbed  Shaun of the Dead from the bookshelf in their room where they kept some of their favorites.

Once he’d prepped his leg for it’s nightly zapping (What? That sounded so much cooler than transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation, not to mention shorter), he flopped down on his stomach propped up by both his pillows. Finally, about halfway through the movie, Derek joined him. “He returns!”

Derek laughed. “Sorry, I got carried away. Had the worst sneezing fit this morning, and went a little overboard with the dusting.” He changed into pajamas and joined Stiles on the bed.

Stiles reached over and patted his cheek. “My poor man. You and that sensitive nose of yours.”

“Yeah, I think I need to see an allergist again.” He leaned over and kissed Stiles’ bare shoulder. Then, grabbing his own pillows, he made himself comfortable. He settled in and watched the movie for about ten minutes, before rolling onto his back and looking up at his boyfriend. “So, um...Stevie told me something at the store earlier.”

“Oh yeah?” Stiles asked, running his hands through Derek’s hair He was still trying to get the guy’s leg to twitch like a puppy’s when he did this. One day, he would succeed, and it would be glorious. Signs and t-shirts would probably be made.

“He wants a baby sister.”

“Does he now?”

“Yeah.” Derek felt his cheeks flame, but the mood lightened when Stiles began laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“The timing of it is just spot on.”

He reached up and poked Stiles in the nose. “I have no idea what you mean by that, especially since you’re a guy and can’t spring the ‘Surprise! I’m pregnant.’ on me.”

“Ha, ha, ha. Very funny.” Stiles licked his lips. “Remember when I said I wanted kids--Stephen excepted--but like years from now?” He made sure to over-emphasize ‘years.’

“Yeah.”

“Turns out, I was way off on that timeline. I don’t know, just spending all this time with my niece made me realize how wrong I’d been about that assessment.”

Derek took his hand and kissed his knuckles. “How off are we talking?”

“I don’t mean right this second, and let’s be honest, we can’t just say, ‘Let’s make a baby.’ I realize the limitations and how long it might take. I just...I really want a bigger family with you, and you know what? I’m actually okay with looking into adoption first.”

“You’ve put a bit of thought into this, haven’t you?”

“I may have looked into what it would take. No hurry though. I just wanted you to know that when I said several years, well that’s changed, and I no longer would just like that with you. I want us to have another kid.” Worried he’d just made things awkward, he buried his face in his pillow, until Derek coaxed him out of hiding.

“Hey, look at me,” Derek said softly, and when Stiles looked up, captured his lips in a kiss, running his thumb in a gentle caress across Stiles’ cheek. “Was this the ‘I’m ready’ conversation?”

“Getting pretty close to it.” He leaned down and kissed Derek’s forehead. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Now enough of this heavy conversation. We’re about to miss the best part of the movie.” He gave Stiles a playful shove as Shaun and his cohorts beat up the zombified bartender in perfect time to Queen.

Stiles watched Derek burst into full body laughter at the scene and felt his heart swell. Though he told Derek there was no rush, in all honesty, if someone were to drop off a baby on their doorstep tomorrow, he’d be thrilled. It was an impractical dream, but a dream nonetheless, and he could not believe he was in so deep with someone after less than two years of dating. The thought made his head spin, a good type of lightheadedness, and he settled in next to Derek to enjoy the rest of the movie, his heart both full and free

 

 


End file.
